


I want to breathe out (when you breathe in)

by bookishandbossy



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Matt POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishandbossy/pseuds/bookishandbossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen Page was probably going to drive him insane. And he was going to love every minute of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I want to breathe out (when you breathe in)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Fade Into You" by the cast of Nashville.
> 
> #writekaredevilfic 2k15

On Monday, Karen smelled like lavender. She reminded Matt of endless sun-warmed fields and the feel of a summer breeze against his skin and the sound of bees humming in the park and when she passed by his chair, heels clicking on the floor and hem of her skirt just barely brushing his knees, he couldn't help breathing her in. And just for a moment, everything else in the world seemed to fall away and reduce itself down to one single bright point: her, strong and funny and kind and brave and beautiful and everything that made his breath catch and him believe that maybe they were both going to be okay. 

Then the air conditioner kicked into high gear, wheezing and puffing against the New York summer, and the phone rang and Foggy started shouting about a new client and the bruise on his side throbbed again and the moment popped like a soap bubble. But later, when he was about to leave the office, he caught another whiff of lavender (of _her_ ) and he was lost all over again.

On Tuesday, Karen smelled like lemons and soap, clean and fresh, and her presence cut through all the chatter and chaos of all the office. All day, he sorted through piles of paperwork, fingers running over endless lines of Braille, and dealt with one of their particularly stubborn new clients and tried not to pull at the stitches in his side he'd acquired last night and underneath it all, there she was. And even when he told himself that he was busy, his mind kept on wandering away. Towards her. Underneath everything, she was a constant, like his mind had decided to dedicate a sizable chunk of its time solely to her without him even knowing it, like it hoped that she would always be there. And Matt couldn't help wondering when he'd become so achingly aware of every move Karen Page made, of the way her presence lingered in the room even after she'd left, of every slight change and waver in her voice. When he'd found himself wanting to smooth away the hurt he heard there.

On Wednesday, Karen smelled like the ocean, sun and salt water and a hint of sweetness underneath, like impossibly long summer days spent by the beach, like not having a care in the world (even when he knew that she did). It was hot and still in the office, since the old air conditioning unit had finally groaned its last, and she seemed to fill the space even more in the quiet, a breeze sweeping through the room. And even though he couldn't see it, he imagined the hope in her smile when she stopped by his desk in the middle of his afternoon and asked him to run away for the day. “Foggy fled hours ago and we're not getting anything done today,” she said. “Come out to Coney Island with me, get out of the office. If you're lucky, I might even buy you a hot dog from Nathan's.”

“There's a filing that we still need to get in,” he said weakly. Because she was so very close and he wanted her so very much and rationally, he knew that it was a bad idea in almost every way but he was getting closer and closer to the verge of saying fuck it and kissing her until they were both breathless.

“Already done. Come on,” Karen repeated and tugged one of his hands across the desk, towards her. “You look like you need to breathe.”

Later, sensing how she stood still on the beach, letting the water lap at her feet and the wind fly through her hair, he thought that maybe she needed to breathe too.

On Thursday, Karen smelled like sugar and flour and cinnamon. She'd stopped by the new bakery up the street before coming into work and she'd brought a waxed paper bakery bag stuffed with everything they had to offer back for Matt and Foggy. She couldn't have been there longer for ten minutes, Matt thought, but she'd still somehow absorbed the smell of the bakery into her skin, and he couldn't help wondering if she'd taste sweet too. Half an hour later, he was too occupied by imagining in wonderful, excruciating detail exactly how she could taste and telling himself to stop imagining it to even notice when she perched on the edge of his desk and shook the bakery bag right under his nose. “I saved the doughnut muffins for you,” Karen told him sweetly. “Don't you even want a taste?”

Matt nearly fell out of his chair. “Where are, uh...where are they?”

“Here,” she replied, laughing, and held one of the muffins out to him. But one of them must have misjudged the angle because instead of the muffin landing neatly in his hand, her fingers brushed against his mouth and he took a bite of the muffin right from her hand without even thinking about it. Karen just laughed again and offered him another bite. “You know, Matt, I'm pretty sure my secretarial duties don't include feeding you pastry. No matter how good you are with your mouth.”

He'd thought that his fantasies about her couldn't get any better. He'd been wrong.

On Friday, Karen was wearing perfume. Something classic, light and floral and faintly woodsy underneath, subtle enough that no one else in the office even noticed it. He was pretty sure it was going to drive him insane. 

“Karen?” he asked when she was packing up to go. “Do you have a date tonight? You...you're wearing perfume so I thought that maybe...”

“No. No, I don't,” she repeated, her voice carrying the hint of a challenge.

“Do you want to have one?” 

On Saturday, Karen smelled like his sheets, like cool linen and warm skin and the start of something new. And when he leaned over to kiss her, long and deep and easy, she gave a small satisfied sigh and pulled him fully on top of her. “What was that for?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the base of her neck and savoring the way that she gasped when he slid one hand further down.

“I knew it'd only take you a week to crack.”


End file.
